Letting Things Go
by ClaudiaRain
Summary: Things have gone from mild, to cool, to frigid. Hardison isn't asking for tropical, but he'd like to see things room temperature again, at least. Nate/Parker
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Letting Things Go

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Leverage or its characters and I make no profit from this. It's just for fun.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Pairing:** Nate/Parker

**Summary:** Things have gone from mild, to cool, to frigid. Hardison isn't asking for tropical, but he'd like to see things room temperature again, at least. Nate/Parker

**Author's note: **Started this awhile ago and was fixing it up today…I wavered on posting it, wondering if people would get sick of me, but then I thought, those who love N/P will like it no matter when I post it. Those who hate N/P will hate it no matter when I post it. So what does it matter? And it's official, I don't care anymore - I'm going to keep writing N/P stories until I get sick of them. And I don't see it happening anytime soon.

**XXXXXX**

She'd always gotten along with the others. Always. Well, she and Sophie had to get past some differences, and Hardison was usually humoring her, and Eliot seemed to dislike (even outright hate) her at times…but still, she got along with them, for the most part.

Nate was trickier to read. For the longest time, whenever he'd really had it with her, he would only roll his eyes or appear otherwise exasperated with her. "She's Parker," he would say, infusing as much grievousness into the sentence as he could, while also implying that there was nothing any of them could do, and they just had to deal with her. And at the worst of times, he could almost seem like he didn't want to deal with her for even one more day – but then he always would.

As such, she'd managed to make a place for herself with them without giving even an inch of who she was. _They _had to accommodate _her, _and it was a way of dealing with things that lasted without too many issues for quite awhile. If they were unhappy with her? Well, that wasn't her fault. They eventually learned they had to just let it go. Because she sure as hell was never going to change, which meant they had to. That was the way Parker liked it, and the way it should be, and she'd had them understanding that fact for awhile.

Things were fine for a very long time.

Until one day, out of the blue, Nate suddenly stopped letting things go.

And it aggravated her to no end that he'd gone and changed the rules she'd established (which worked just fine, in her opinion). What gave him the right?

Take the matter at hand. Here she was, having to sit and listen to him yell at her about the risks she took. And why? Because he had called off their latest plan while she was _in _the mark's residence. She knew she had enough time to plant the listening device in the master bedroom, but Nate had ordered her out when the man's wife came home early.

She'd done what anyone would (or at least what anyone named Parker would), which was pretend she hadn't heard him, and gone ahead with the plan anyways.

And she got out just like she'd calculated. So it might have been close, and she might have had to hide in the bathtub for twenty minutes while the man's wife went to bed, but who could blame her for _that_?

Oh wait, Nate could.

"Don't pretend like you didn't hear me telling you to get out of the building. It's not the first time you've done this!"

She sat, silently seething, and trying to tune him out. It was a skill she'd yet to master despite her many years of trying, because everything he said was crazy enough to make her want to fight back. How did you ignore that?

"I knew what I had time to do and I made an independent decision to do it!" She finally shot back, in the middle of his tirade about how she had no respect for him, or the team, or her own safety.

Nate took a step toward her. "You can't make those decisions. That's why _I'm _in charge," he reminded her. As if she weren't aware of his overbearing management style. In that moment, she wanted to wring his neck. That couldn't be indicative of a good leader.

"Maybe you shouldn't be in charge," she challenged. "Why, I think Eliot, or Sophie, or Hardison – no, God forbid Hardison had to direct us – but Eliot or Sophie could do it perfectly fine. Better than you."

He paced away from her and ran his hands through his hair, as if he honestly couldn't believe what she was saying. "You do realize you're the only one who feels this way, which means you are wrong."

"No, it means I'm the one who's right, and that the others are too loyal to you to ever speak up."

Nate didn't appear to take that too well, if the way his voice grew cold was any indication. "How long have you felt this way?"

She shrugged, no longer looking at him. She didn't really mean it, but he made her so mad sometimes that she said things without thinking. Truthfully, for what he did – keeping them all together and always guiding them to successfully pull off jobs – she'd never seen anyone as brilliant as him.

Only she was always too angry with him to ever tell him anything of the sort.

"If you're really that unhappy with me, Parker," Nate was saying, "you don't have to stay with us."

She turned to him, worried now. "What do you mean by that?"

He sighed. "Nothing. I meant nothing." He gave up and left the room. He could never get _anywhere _with her. That never used to bother him, but now? He couldn't take it anymore. What did she want? Half the time he thought she wanted to be part of their team, the rest of the time he truly thought she was planning to leave. Or maybe that she wanted them to _tell _her to leave so she wouldn't have to make that decision for herself.

After he left she sat at the table, thinking back over the past few months. When had things changed? She couldn't pinpoint an exact time, but things had been bad for awhile now. She knew she must have done something at some point in time to infuriate him, and he'd never gotten over it. But what? If she knew she'd have fixed it. Except his unhappiness had gone on long enough now that she began to think that if she _did _know, she still wouldn't be able to fix whatever it was.

He never talked to her anymore except to tell her why he disagreed with her suggestions, or to criticize something she'd done, or was doing, or planned to do. Every time he opened his mouth lately, she knew it was to tell her some way or another in which she was _wrong. _No, they'd never been close friends, but they used to at least have conversations that didn't end with his eyes full of displeasure, and hers as blank as ever while she thought to herself that it was a good thing she didn't believe in expressing emotions like Sophie, or she might sincerely hate him for making her miserable _all the time_.

She listed today's incident (another in a long line) in the mental column headed "Reasons I can't stand Nathan Ford." The list was getting far too long (though she suspected if he had a similar list about her, his would be much longer).

**XXXXXX**

A few weeks later, right when things were getting back to more or less normal between them, Nate figured she _would _have to ruin it by overreacting to something that was completely inconsequential.

"I can't believe you're serious right now," he told her, as she stared him down, hands on hips, and all her fury directed toward him.

"What do you expect? You replaced me!" She yelled at him. She wondered if it were payback for her disregarding his 'order' a few weeks ago in that bathtub incident. More than likely.

"Parker," he hedged, "I needed someone with more finesse."

"On what planet does Hardison have more finesse than me?" She bit out with annoyance.

"If I may," Hardison tentatively raised his hand. "That would be every plant in the known and unknown universe."

"I swear to God, Hardison, if you don't lower your hand I'm going to rip it off," she hissed at him.

"Hey, you're mad at Nate. Not me! Remember that," he quickly shut up when she turned to glare at him again.

"I have more than enough anger to go around," she warned him.

Nate was sick of her indignant and unwarranted outrage. "You should be thanking me that I asked Hardison to do something you would have found nearly impossible."

Parker was almost speechless at his audacity. It wasn't as if what she was supposed to do was that hard – just accompany Sophie to the local building inspector's office and be charming. Okay, so the charming part might be difficult, but she still had no idea how Nate thought Hardison could be more charming than her.

"You are incredibly arrogant," Parker told him, "expecting me to _thank _you for pulling me from a job and putting Hardison in my place!"

"It's not like we still don't need you –" he tried to explain, but she wanted none of it.

"You better figure out how to make it work without me, then, Nate, because I'm no longer participating in this one," she crossed her arms and settled on his couch with an air of finality he knew would be futile to argue against. The masochist in him had to try anyways.

"Parker," he said, trying to stay as rationally calm as was _ever _possible when dealing with Parker, "I think you're letting your emotions get the better of you. Now, I'm going to need you to –"

"Finish that sentence, Nate. Go ahead. And then be absolutely secure in the knowledge that I am _not _going to do what you asked, and I'm going to _not _do it with pleasure."

He clenched his hands into fists and silently cursed her. She gave him more grief than his ex-wife and all his ex-girlfriends _combined_. And that was quite a goddamn feat.

"Fine! Don't participate! We don't need you anyways," he said firmly.

Parker made sure not to look at either one of them, because if she did they would see just how much his last sentence had shaken her. She'd heard it before, but this time it was much worse.

Hardison looked back and forth between them, worry seeping into his tone. "Nate, are you sure that's the best way to go?"

"Ask _her_," Nate said angrily.

Parker started flipping through TV channels, proud of the way she was able to keep herself composed. And even if her hand _was _shaking and she didn't hear a single word being said on the TV, so what? Neither Nate nor Hardison knew that.

"Parker, we still need you for this one. Think about it," Hardison tried to cajole her into responding.

Nate answered before she could, and she was actually grateful because her voice would not have been steady. "It's already thought about, and if Parker wants a break, then fine. Take a break, Parker."

"But Nate –" Hardison tried again.

She didn't answer him and Nate went on, speaking right over Hardison's pleas. "Take a break. That means, _not here_."

Hardison whipped around to stare at Nate in shock. "Are you kicking her out?"

Parker stood to face him as well. She didn't need to ask because she saw the answer to Hardison's question on Nate's face. "You are. You're kicking me out." At least her anger covered up any amount of hurt that might have been in her voice.

"I'm merely _suggesting _you leave because you very obviously don't want to be here. Don't stay on our account."

"Nate," Hardison said urgently, "what is wrong with you? Parker, don't listen to him."

She looked back and forth between them.

"This is _my _apartment!" Nate said, aggravated, before composing himself, and then tried to justify it. "And besides, you are the one who just told me you wanted nothing to do with this job. I didn't say that, _you _did."

"Because you _replaced _me!" She yelled.

"We switch roles all the time," he argued back. "You're the one taking it personally."

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have taken that part so personally," she relented, as Hardison relaxed and thought maybe the situation would simply diffuse.

He should have known better.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Nate said.

"What I _do _take personally," she said, without acknowledging he'd even spoken, "is you telling me I'm not welcome here anymore. And I'm certainly not going to stay after that." She barely resisted the urge to throw the remote she was holding at him, dropping it instead on the couch.

She didn't run out, or do anything else dramatic. She merely walked, as if she were in no hurry for anything. Her goal was to not give any hint whatsoever that she'd been bothered by what he'd said, by what had just happened.

She won, too, because Nate didn't say anything to make her stay.

Why, then, didn't it _feel _like winning?

**XXXXXX**

Parker didn't show up for two weeks after that, and though they tried to find her, she was good at hiding. Hardison was beginning to despair of her ever coming back again, but then, on the day after they finished the con she and Nate had fought about, she simply walked in and sat down at the kitchen table as if she'd never stopped coming in the first place.

No one said anything, not even Nate, though he did stare at her for a very long time. And then things were the way they'd always been. Except for a distinct chill in the atmosphere that was always worse when Nate and Parker were in a room together.

There was one thing Hardison always had to have, and that was for everyone to get along. He despised fighting, and although Nate and Parker didn't outright fight for a few weeks (besides the occasional sniping or sarcastic comment directed at the other), the rigidity of it all reminded Hardison too much of a friend he'd had as a child. He hated going to the other boy's house because his parents always had the tenseness between them that was standard issue for Nate and Parker these days.

Still, things were at least bearable. Nearly anything was better than outright fighting.

But nothing – or rather, no one – can stay in such a constant state of precariousness for so long. It was bound to tip one way or the other.

It eventually did, and no one saw it coming, which made it ten times worse than it might have been.

Of course the other three were aware of the problems between Nate and Parker; even those who were blind could have recognized it, because you didn't have to see anything to hear the anger in their voices, or feel the unnatural stillness that came over a room when they both entered.

They didn't talk to each other unless they absolutely had to.

They never touched each other unless it was an accident, and that usually involved an insincere apology on Nate's part, or immediate withdrawal on Parker's.

Sophie later said she knew they had problems but figured they'd work them out. She always prided herself on being optimistic. Besides, the one time she'd tried to talk to Nate about it, his anger had run over at _her _and he'd said some hurtful things he later apologized for. She'd learned not to question him about it again. When she talked to Parker, the woman had completely shut down and walked away, and Sophie had been afraid she would pull another stunt like before, not coming back the next day (though she had).

That was why Sophie hadn't tried to do anything. As for Eliot? He later claimed that he'd honestly had no idea what was going on. Sure he'd noticed that their boss and their thief weren't particularly friendly, but when was Parker particularly friendly with _anyone_? Besides, Eliot was as unhappy with Parker as Nate was, most of the time, so it only amused him when Nate started calling her out for doing dangerous or crazy things, or for completely ignoring the things they said to her.

Finally, he'd thought, someone was addressing the things she got away with for far too long. Half the time he backed up Nate's side of the argument, and he had no idea that it grated on Parker just a little more each time.

Hardison, though, berated himself long after. Because he should have seen it coming, he should have recognized the signs. He tried to be the peacemaker, and though he had attempted to talk to both of them, he got nowhere. He'd given up just like Sophie. And he'd pretended to be as oblivious as Eliot _actually_ was.

Which turned out to be a huge mistake. Because if Hardison had really let himself see what was coming, they all would have been spared a lot of grief.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – I don't envision this as being too long, and it's quite different than the lighter stories I usually write. Angst! But if you know anything at all about me, you know that I can never get too sad. I don't have it in me. (Plus the fact that the pairing is N/P must give some things away ;)

Everything I write will be finished. All thoughts welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note: **I must apologize that this story has taken me so long. I posted it while I had two other stories going on, and this was on the back burner. Anyways, this is the ending!

**XXXXXX**

Nate realized, in hindsight, that he hadn't gone about things the way he should have. There were a number of things he could have done to get Parker to recognize that her reckless behavior put both herself and the rest of them at risk. He could have talked to her privately. He could have staged a sort of intervention with all of them. Hell, he could removed himself from the equation altogether (since God knew she didn't react well to his mere _presence _lately) and had someone else talk to her; Sophie or Hardison alone would have made the news more palatable. And she might have listened to them.

He knew he'd been quite drastic, but in his defense, at the time he saw it as absolutely necessary. Some of the things she did could have seriously hurt her. Such as when she confronted one of their marks, by _herself_, when they not only suspected him of bank robbery, but of murdering his own partners. She'd come out of it alive, and so had Nate – barely. But he still had no doubt that one of these days she really was going to give him a heart attack.

In fact, that incident had been what convinced him that his subsequent actions were completely justified. He'd been furious, and worried, and _rightly_ terrified that one day she might get herself killed.

She liked to remind him that (most of the time at least), any risks she took would only affect her. Wasn't it her own life to risk, if she thought the situation warranted it?

She had never understood that the end of her would be the end of him, too.

The others didn't share his sense of urgency, which was the only reason he didn't fill them in on his plan. Maybe seen from the safe distance of passing time, he _might _admit that he suspected they wouldn't go along with him, but that mattered little when it was already said and done.

In fact, it didn't matter at all when he was confronted by Parker, furious and hurt, wondering why he'd done what he'd done.

He hadn't planned on her ever finding out, except that the others (read: Hardison) figured things out, and he hadn't been able to stop it.

He'd set her up to fail. It sounded awful (especially if one didn't know the details), but it was the truth. In fact, it might not even be counted as sabotage on his part, considering their entire last con had been fake, set up between himself and an old acquaintance. Its sole purpose had been to teach Parker that going off on her own was foolish, and risky, raising the chances of potential harm to her and the rest of their team. In the end, the only important facts were that she'd been allowed to extricate herself from a supposedly 'lethal' situation, while under the impression that she'd risked _all _of their lives, and caused the entire operation to fail.

Nate still thought it was sort of brilliant – and it would have worked, if the others had been able to keep quiet. He hated their tendency to always ask _so many questions_.

Needless to say…Parker hadn't taken it too well. It ended with a confrontation between them, which included plenty of screaming and hurt feelings on both sides. They'd reached an impasse. He'd never convince her that he'd done what he had for her own good, and she'd never understand his reasons – or maybe, she'd never _believe_ them.

The others had tried, but neither Nate nor Parker were in the mood to concede any points to each other. Parker had finally given up and announced she was going on an 'open-ended vacation' with no indication of when, or if, she'd come back.

After she'd left that night, Hardison had been so devastated that he left, too. He was followed by Eliot, and lastly, Sophie, who used every trick she could think of to try and reach Nate, to no avail.

The other three had told Nate their team was 'temporarily' disbanded – until Parker came back (though it didn't seem the most likely of scenarios). Nate considered moving, but then didn't, for the simple reason that he had nowhere else to go.

And then, one day, three weeks later (not long enough in Nate's opinion), the three of them had come back. They told him they still wanted to work together, but wouldn't without her. And Nate was the only one who had any shot of convincing her to return, (seeing as he was the reason she wouldn't).

Nate wasn't as convinced. "I don't know what kind of scheme you've concocted, but it's not going to work. And it's sure not going to work if it hinges on _me _convincing her to come back. Count me out."

Hardison quickly became irate, as if he'd been hiding it this entire time and now saw an opportunity to vent his rage. "What the hell is the matter with you?" He yelled. "Do you not care? Don't you realize this was your fault? You convinced her to leave us! _You_!" He punctuated the last statement with a fierce shove that forced Nate into his kitchen table.

The passion from the other man snapped Nate out of the state of apathetic self-pity he'd been mired in for weeks. "It was for her own good!" He yelled back, rubbing his back and barely resisting the urge to physically retaliate. Why the hell was no one was on his side? Did they not understand how reckless she'd been lately? How could they fail to see his plan had been necessary to show her that she was putting herself in danger?

"Normally I'm on your side, Nate," Eliot said, his tone as infuriatingly calm and controlled as ever. "But you went about it the wrong way. You betrayed her trust, and that was your big mistake. I know you think you were justified, but she is _gone_. And it seems by now she has no plans to come back. What are you going to do about that?"

Nate stared at him, trying to think of a solution. Only he had nothing, and that left him scrambling to continue justifying his actions, though he knew they didn't want to hear it. "Would you rather she'd gotten herself killed on one of our cons? Because that's what was going to happen!"

"You don't know that," Hardison argued, still looking as if he wanted to beat the point into Nate.

Sophie watched Nate with a look of pity. "I know why you set Parker up, and I know you _think _you went about it in the best possible way. But it didn't fix anything. It only ended her trust in you." She searched his eyes, for a moment, willing him to understand. "Don't you get that you're _it_ with her?"

"What?" Nate asked, clearly confused.

"If she doesn't trust _you_, she's not going to trust any of us," Eliot explained. "You shattered her trust in all four of us with your stunt."

"She needed – she was going to –" Nate grimaced, furious that he couldn't articulate exactly what he meant. Why did he become the bad guy because he cared about her _life_? "Maybe it's better she's not here anymore. I'd rather have her hate me than be dead!" He yelled, as the other three stared at him in stunned silence.

"Wow, man, you're telling that to the wrong audience," Hardison finally said, his anger dissipating as quickly as it'd come.

Nate stalked over to the sofa, sitting on it and putting his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do anymore. He knew he should apologize to her, but how could he do that when his intentions hadn't changed? He still wanted – no, he _needed_ her to see how dangerous her behavior was. He couldn't apologize for trying to protect her – even if he'd gone about it in a manner of which no one approved.

"Nate," Sophie said softly, coming to sit next to him. "I don't know if you really meant that, about thinking she was better off without us, but…she's Parker. She's going to do whatever she wants to do, and telling her _not _to do something is the quickest way to get her thinking about how to do it. At least here, we could look out for her; we could be there if anything happened. You know that. And if we're being honest here, I've never seen you like this before. Have you left your apartment in the past three weeks?"

He shrugged, "Why bother? I can get groceries delivered."

"Man, this is pathetic," Hardison said, exasperated.

"If _Hardison's_ the one telling you that, it means you've got a problem," Eliot added.

Sophie shot him a dirty look, then turned back to Nate. "This is not just for us. It's for you. Trust me, you need to resolve this. You don't look well."

He turned his head to look at her warily. "Is this another dig at me, Sophie? Because I've had enough. Besides, I can't talk to her. She left. She clearly doesn't want to hear from me or anyone else."

"I think she wants to hear from you _more_ than anyone else," Sophie argued. "Trust me on this one, Nate."

"And where am I supposed to find her?" He asked sarcastically, gesturing around the apartment. "Do you _see _her here? She's gone. And when she's gone, she's _gone_."

"Actually…" Hardison said, "she just checked into a hotel in San Francisco. I already booked you a ticket."

"What?" Nate asked, stunned. Part of him had honestly thought he'd never learn where she was, that he'd never see her again. "How is that possible? It can't be an accident she let you find her."

"I agree," Hardison said, "she did it on purpose. She wanted to be found."

"Then why don't you go?" Nate asked.

"Because I can't bring her back," Hardison said. "Believe me, if I thought I could, I'd have left by now, and wouldn't have bothered coming here."

Nate glanced at the others to find they were nodding along with Hardison.

He gave in without more of a fight, mainly because he wanted to see her with a desperation he hadn't allowed himself to truly feel until now. "Fine," he relented, standing. "But if this goes horribly, I'm going to blame you. All of you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Sophie said, watching him leave. She prayed this worked, because if it didn't, their team would go from 'temporarily' to permanently disbanded. And from the way Nate was acting, she thought that might be the least of their problems.

XXXXXX

He called her, and she didn't pick up. He knocked repeatedly on her door, but she didn't answer. It left him with one option that was distinctly…Parker.

He picked the lock (despite what she might like to think, she wasn't the only one who knew how to do that).

"Parker?" He asked quietly as he slowly went from room to room. The hotel suite was dark, and silent. After a few minutes, he wondered if she were even there. Who knew why she was in California? She could be working another angle on something, planning a theft, or anything else equally dangerous.

With none of them there to help her. Like they _should _be.

The thought left him anxious, and edgy (and guilt-stricken) beyond reason.

What if she was there…but not alone?

He worried in vain, though, because as he stepped into the doorway of the bedroom, he saw her outline on the bed. Her even breathing told him she was sound asleep. His entire being relaxed completely, and it wasn't until that moment that he realized how tightly wound he'd been. He hadn't lost her. She was within arm's reach. He could grab hold of her and never let her go (though she'd probably have a few objections to that).

"Parker?" He whispered into the darkness. Predictably, she didn't answer him, though he did hold his breath when she restlessly turned over. She was on the far side of the bed, and he sat down on the side closest to him, wondering what he should do next.

May as well talk, since this was the closest he'd get to a fair, uninterrupted hearing.

"I'm sorry, Parker," he began. He could barely see her face in the dark, and wondered what she was dreaming about. "If I were you, I'd hate me, too. So don't worry about that. The reason I'm here is because the others pretty much forced me to come."

But was that true? Not really.

"I guess I need to be more honest, if I can't even tell you the truth when you're sleeping," he said, sighing and staring at her headboard, because he couldn't even look at her when she was sleeping, and when had that happened?

"I know you won't understand this, but if you knew how terrified I was – am – for you, every single day…then you'd know why I did what I did. I can't fix it, but I can beg your forgiveness. Though I guess that would be more effective if you were awake, right?"

He laid on his back next to her and pretended she was awake and listening to him; it would be good practice for when he had to do this again once she woke up (provided she didn't immediately try to kill him for showing up in her hotel room in the middle of the night). "You probably won't forgive me, but if you'd look at things from my perspective, for only a moment, then you'd understand. Parker, I've spent the past few months scared out of my mind that one day I'd have to deal with your death, and you have no idea what it's done to me. I couldn't sleep, I could barely eat. Every day, I thought of the various ways you could die because of your careless behavior, and I finally decided I had to stop you. Was it wrong of me? Probably. But you…terrify me. You terrify me and you'll never know it, because I'm sure once you wake up and I have to explain this to you, I'll leave that part out."

He listened as she breathed in and out, blissfully unaware of the vulnerabilities he was admitting. He tentatively reached out and brushed his hand over her face, wishing he knew when, exactly, he fell in love with her, and why he'd only realized it in this instant. "Doing what I did…it didn't help anything, because I'm in worse shape now than before you left. I didn't think that was possible, in any universe. I'm sorry I…care about you so much that I ended up hurting you to try and protect you. I hope, when I try to explain it to you, that you even remotely understand."

He sighed and shut his eyes, knowing instinctively it was beyond reckless to allow himself to fall asleep, but he was exhausted, and…

"Too bad I'm a better actress than you realize," she said, as his eyes shot open and he scrambled to sit up so quickly that he nearly fell off the bed. "Not that pretending to sleep takes that much work, despite what Sophie claims," she added thoughtfully.

"Parker?" He gaped.

"Who else?" She was sitting next to him, giving him a look of evaluation, as if she didn't quite know what to make of him…and she probably didn't.

"Were you awake that whole time?" He asked, trying frantically to remember what he'd said.

"Since you came in," she told him succinctly. "Good – or bad – for you. I guess it depends on how you look at it."

"No, it depends on how _you _look at it," he said.

It was dark in her room, but his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see her expression. He allowed himself a measure of hope when he didn't see the hatred he'd been expecting.

Parker didn't know what to make of Nate's explanation. When she thought back to his actions a month ago, she couldn't believe what he'd done – except she had to, right? Because he _had _done it. He'd let her think she put all of them in mortal danger. He'd let her think she compromised their entire con – a con which had been completely fake. And to what end? To try and 'teach' her to behave better? So she'd continue staying in line, doing whatever he said, whenever he said it?

To hell with that.

A part of her, a very small, minute part, _might _have understood his motives – at least from what he'd tried to explain of them. But most of her simply resented that he'd treat her in the manner he had.

"Did you mean what you said?" She asked, and he didn't need clarification on which part, because he knew what she was referring to. Everything.

There was no point in denying it.

"Every word," he admitted.

When she didn't say anything, he started to become worried. There was a very real set of possibilities that included her hating him and trying to throw him out of her hotel room. "It was for you. For your own good," he said, quietly.

"Do you know how many times in my life I've heard that justification for something that _wasn't _for my own good?" She asked, suppressing bitter laughter.

He stared at her thoughtfully. "There's a difference between me and everyone from your past," he pointed out. "I hope you can see that."

Actually, she did, which was entirely in his favor. "I still can't believe you did what you did," she told him. He seemed surprised that she wasn't trying to stab him with a letter opener. "However…I believe what you said."

"Meaning…what?" He asked.

She didn't say anything, merely moved over a few feet and wrapped her arms around him.

He stared down at her, shocked at her actions. He'd thought she might want to kill him, so to have her embrace him instead was a turn that he didn't quite know how to deal with. A few minutes passed while he tried to regroup. "Are you feeling alright?" He finally asked.

She laughed, the sound muffled against his chest. "I don't know, I might be losing it…especially in light of recent events."

He felt hope at her candidness, and he had to know… "Do you forgive me?"

She let go of him so she could sit up and look at him. "I don't know, Nate. What I do know is that you seem to really care about me –"

"I don't _seem_ to," he cut in, "I _do _care."

"And that alone makes you more important than most the people I've ever known," she said.

"Don't leave us forever," he said, "please."

When she only stared at him in question, he had to reword it.

"Don't leave _me_," he said. "Don't you see, by now, that's what this entire thing has been about?"

"No," she told him, frowning. "I don't." She really had no idea what he meant.

"_Leaving me_," he said, emphasizing the words in the hopes it would get her attention. "If you ended up dead because of one of your stunts –" he sighed. "It's _leaving_ me, Parker. I can't even think about the possibility, never mind what I'd do if it came true."

"This whole time," she said slowly, "was about what you'd do if I died?" When he merely shut his eyes in response, her heart threatened to break. "I'm not going anywhere, Nate."

"You say that now," he insisted, "but you have no control over it! The things you do are so dangerous, and you could die at any time, I just couldn't allow you to go on that way."

She was still upset, though. "Nate, dying is a part of everyone's life. Anyone could die at any time. You know that. Nothing you do is going to eliminate the risk of that happening, to me or anyone else."

"No, but I can decrease it," he said, vehemently. "And if I can, I'm going to. I can't stop because you're mad at me. Like I told the others, I'd rather you hate me, than…"

"What?" She whispered.

"Than be gone forever," he said agitated, his voice rising with each word. "I'd rather you were alive and far away from me, with the possibility I might touch you again someday, than be dead, in a place where I can _never reach you_. Is that what you want to hear?"

Actually, though it stunned her, it was exactly what she wanted to hear.

He could only sit unmoving in shock when she threw her leg over him, straddling him and waiting until he looked her in the eyes. "You care about me that much?" She asked.

"In this way…I don't know that I've ever cared about anyone more," he said, more honest than he'd intended.

"That's what makes this okay," she whispered. He was about to ask what she meant, when her lips met his. There were a million questions he should have asked, instead of kissing her back. Like why did she want him? Why was she willing to forgive him? What had he ever done to deserve this kind of happiness?

Once he felt her against him, he couldn't articulate any of those logical questions. The only thing he could do was kiss her back and pray she meant what she was telling him without words.

Because if she didn't, he had no idea how he would go on.

He would have gladly kept kissing her all night. Maybe forever. But he had to know, which was why he gently pushed her away and drew in a deep breath, recognizing her own attempts to compose herself. "Parker, please explain what just happened."

"Oh Nate," she said, dismay in her tone, "if you don't know what that was by now – and when you've been married! Then I feel quite sorry for you."

"Parker!" He said, agitated, but his unease evaporated when she only started laughing in response. "I don't deserve you."

"No," she said smartly, "you don't. But life doesn't work that way, does it?"

He met her eyes with concern. "What do you mean?"

"What you do or don't deserve has nothing to do with what I feel for you. Unfortunately." She gave him an unhappy glare. "However, I find myself willing to forgive you because…God, because you're _you. _How sappy is that?"

"I don't think it's –" He began.

"You've totally ruined me," she interrupted, sounding almost depressed at that sudden self-awareness.

"Does this mean you'll come back?" His voice was tinged with hope.

"Yes, I'll come back," she said, rolling her eyes.

"And you'll keep working with us."

She smiled, somewhat sadly. "I wish you'd known this a long time ago, because it would have saved us a lot of trouble. The fact is…I don't know how to leave you, Nate."

"But you did leave," he said. Now he was confused.

"I told you, it was a vacation. I needed time away from you. And I knew you'd find me after the few dozen clues I left for Hardison two days ago."

"Parker," he pleaded. "Please tell me you don't hate me for what I did."

"I don't hate you, I'm just…disappointed."

"I will never do what I did to you before ever again," he swore. "Believe me."

"I do believe you," she said. "But Nate, the fact that you…I may forgive you for what you did, but it's going to take time for me to get over."

"Just remember," he said desperately, "how terrified I was that you might end up killing yourself. I might have an answer for both of us. Make a pact with me."

She shifted backwards a bit, in order to comfortably look him in the eye. "What kind of pact?"

"Listen to me from now on because I'm only concerned about your safety. I'm not saying follow my every word to the letter, but at least consider things from my point of view, and if something is too dangerous, _don't do it_. In return, I won't ever lead you astray again."

She blinked and considered his offer. She had to admit it sounded fair. Besides, no matter how mad she was at him for setting her up on their last (fake) job, she could never hate him. Not when he only had her welfare at heart. (And truthfully, not even if that weren't the case). "I'll swear if you swear," she said.

"I swear," he said, quickly.

"Then I swear, too," she told him, leaning forward to kiss him again. They got lost for a few minutes, reveling in the novelty of being able to share their feelings for each other in such an intimate way. She fleetingly wondered how she'd gone from being so furious at Nate in the past few weeks to sitting on his lap, in bed, kissing him.

It was kind of crazy. Good thing she didn't mind crazy.

"What are you going to tell the others?" She asked when they parted, and he knew she was referring to their burgeoning relationship.

"That you wanted me so badly, I told you if you came back, you could have me. Who was I to refuse?" he said, smirking.

She shook her head at his obvious triumph, but she knew why he felt it. He'd won this time, and Nate Ford was used to winning. She should probably resent him for that. But since it meant that she'd won, too…she found she didn't care.

"Tell me one thing," she said, as she returned to her side of the bed. "How did you get me from hating you to…well…now?" She didn't specify, but she knew he could fill in the blanks to realize that she was referring to the extreme amount of affection she currently felt for him.

He took on a lecturing tone that barely kept her from wanting to hit him. "Why Parker, it's a matter of charm."

"Sure, Nate. Charm. It's all about charm."

He shifted on the bed so he could whisper in her ear. "And love. Maybe it has something to do with love."

She grinned at him, completely against her will. "You think?"

"I don't think, I know. It's clear now that you never hated me in the first place," he whispered back.

"It surprises me," she said, "but you're right!"

"How can it surprise you? I'm _always _right."

"Wait, I was wrong, I _do_ hate you," she said, but her laughing belied her words.

"I don't believe that," he said. "In fact, I believe the exact opposite."

She didn't bother to correct him, because he was right: she loved him.

A few weeks ago, she might have hated him for making her feel that way.

Now? She found it was...the exact opposite.

**XXXXXX**

The end! This marks the first time in awhile that all of my stories are finished! It may not last long, though.

I hope you enjoyed, and sorry to anyone who was waiting for the conclusion. I'll try to do better in the future.


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